Flight
by exogenesissymph
Summary: There are many things that Lyn Reynolds, Slytherin, can handle, no problem. An assignment on the Patronus Charm? Okay. Her Professor pairing her together with Albus Potter for said project? Fine. But after she manages to produce her patronus and starts having repeated nightmares, her relationship with her best friend is strained and she plunges into uncharted territories.


**A/N: **So this is a story that I have been working on for a while, and there's not much that I can say about it, other than the fact that it will no longer just exist on my computer.

The idea hit me when I was listening to The Piano Guy's Titanium/Pavane a little more than one year ago, and I thought, I should write about someone seeing something majestic but only being reminded of how broken they are inside.

Don't sue. I don't own. Except my OCs. And all the mistakes. (I don't have a beta. So... *hinthint*) Please do point out any errors, however small, whether it's a plot hole or a spelling error or a grammar error.

Enjoy!

* * *

[.

Every Hogwarts journey begins with the Sorting. It is the first step to finding a little bit of yourself.

The Sorting Hat has its reasons. We may not always understand them at the time, but its reasons are there.

[i. Locked

_People don't understand why I'm in Slytherin. To be honest, I don't really, either. But I do know that there must be something about me that is Slytherin, or else how in Merlin's name did I end up here?_

_I, Lyn Reynolds, was an angry eleven year old. It might have something to do with my mum being her workaholic self, or it might have been because I lived in a house way too quiet. There was too much time to think about… the world; and the result of that was a cynical pre-teen. _

_So I requested to be put in Slytherin. And I was. _

* * *

"Hey, did you hear?" Cassandra Zambini asked as she slid into the seat next to Lyn's at their regular breakfast table.

"Hear about what?" Lyn asked, even though she wasn't completely interested in hearing about her friend's latest gossips.

Cass leaned over and whispered, "Eva Logan is asking James out for the next Hogsmeade trip! She's planning to ambush him right after one of his Quidditch practices and then ask him."

Lyn laughed, "Well, what's the use of an ambush if everyone knows about it?"

"Not _everyone_," Cass huffed. "I hate it when you imply that by the time I know about something, everyone else must know too. I have access to pretty exclusive information, okay?"

"Only because you're still hung up on him," Lyn muttered.

Cass scowled. "I'm going to pretend I haven't heard you," she said and stood up to reach for the pancakes.

Lyn sighed. Cass was her closest friend, unusually protective of her, considering how she treated most other people. Sometimes Lyn was beyond grateful that Cass was there, but she didn't understand it, especially since what she offered in return was pretty crappy. Lyn lacked necessary communication skills, even with her best friend.

"I'm not hung up," Cass said, returning with her food. "I just want to be sure that he's still okay." She made a face at how lame that sounded.

"Right," said Lyn. "So have you forgiven him yet?"

James dated Cass for a while back in fourth year. It didn't end well when Cass thought he was giving this little girl too much attention and told the girl to stay away. James ran into this confrontation and promptly broke up with Cass. And Lyn may or may not have done a lame job of keeping him away. Whoops.

But in her defense it was one of those intense weeks of studying. Lyn had pulled an all-nighter because of all the work she piled up onto herself. And she, unlike Cass, was never good at confronting people. When James asked her what she was doing at the hallway entry, where Andrea was, had she seen her, etc. her mind blanked out and she looked down the hallway, intending to figure out how to answer him but unintentionally giving him all the confrontation he needed. Before she knew it he was already halfway down the hall.

(After Cass finished being angry at Lyn and angry at herself, she asked her, "How come you're even a Slytherin? You study more than any bloody Ravenclaw and you can't even talk your way out of ugly situations!"

"I was a cynical eleven-year old," Lyn answered tiredly.)

"Forgive him?" Cass replied, "Of course not. I'm still mad at him for being way more protective of that little brat than his actual girlfriend!" She shoved the last of her pancake into her mouth and grabbed her bag. "And they're not even dating now! He's just really protective of her for a random, wacko reason! If they were dating I would probably be happier, because then I'd be more mad. He'd have broken up with me for a much more legit reason!"

Lyn followed Cass out of the dining hall and to their first class. _Yep_, _Cass was _so_ not over James, _she thought as her friend launched into an all-too-familiar rant.

* * *

"Move it, Firsties!" Cass yelled as she pulled Lyn through the crowd, trying to get to Lyn's Arithmancy class and Cass to her Divination classroom.

"Have fun in boring-as-Merlin's-balls Arithmacy, Lynnie," Cass called as she headed through the hall to Divination. Lyn nodded and called back, "Forget that jerk of a Potter!" But Cass gave no signs of hearing her in the crowded hallway.

As she slid into her seat, a voice startled her from her right.

"Which Potter were you calling a jerk?"

Lyn turned to find not James, but Albus Potter staring at her. (Of course it was Albus. He was the one actually in the same year as she was.)

"Your brother," she answered honestly.

"Why?" he asked, staring at her with large eyes.

"Because he hurt my friend. Deeply." What was with her and spilling the truth today?

"Your friend…as in Zambini?" he asked again.

"Yes," she answered, "Now drop it," she added before her traitor of a mouth betrayed anything else to yet another Potter.

But strangely, he continued to stare at her all through Arithmancy. It was hard to focus on Professor Lucas with green eyes burning into her. _Why?_ She asked herself. _What is he seeing when he looks at me? Someone who can't do anything right? Like guard a hallway? Like… _her eyes drifted to the flaming orange leaves outside and the voice inside her head fell silent.

* * *

"How's your mum doing?" Cass asked as she swallowed her forkful of pasta.

"Uh, fine, I guess." Lyn replied between sips of pumpkin juice.

"You been not talking to her again," Cass accused.

Lyn raised her hands in self-defense, "Hey, I actually wrote back last week. She's the one who hasn't said anything yet."

"Why? Usually she has ton of advice for you. This is the year of O.W.L.s, shouldn't she be flooding you with study material?"

"Well, her fifth year _was_ the year of the Triwizard Tournament…" Lyn trailed off and watched Cass's eyes shift as she remembered.

"Right." Cass said and shut her mouth, chewing too intently on her meat.

Everyone remembered Harry Potter and his accomplishments in the Triwizard Tournament, and everyone now remembered Cedric Diggory as one of the first victims of the Second Wizarding War, but who remembered her mother, Cho Chang, other than from the articles that Rita Skeeter later whipped up? Not the public, that's who.

"It's fine. Whatever." Lyn shook her head. "She was the one who set up the stupid correspondence rule anyways. Not my fault if she breaks it and I don't have anything to write back to."

Cass bit her lip.

"Do you…Do you ever remember your father?" she asked.

Lyn quirked an eyebrow. Her father wasn't exactly a taboo subject, but the last time Cass talked to her about him had to be in, what, First Year?

"No. Not really. He died when I was five, remember? A long time ago…" As she said this, images flashed in her mind. A clear blue sky. The colorful leaves of fall decorating the brown earth. A hiking trail. A mountain. The images zoomed through her head faster than she could grasp on to them individually. And then she couldn't remember anymore.

[ii. Avoided

The Defense hall was noisy as forty-something fifth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins waited for Professor Brennan to arrive.

Lyn stayed with Cass in their Slytherin circle, reading her Potions assignment and contributing occasionally to the conversation. Albus Potter approached and Lyn ducked behind Cass, hoping that he wouldn't pick her out like he did yesterday. He walked by and headed straight to where Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley, his fellow Ravenclaws, were sitting. He didn't even notice her amongst all her friends. Lyn let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. _Let's just hope he forgot all about yesterday_.

"Settle down, settle down, class!" Professor Brennan finally marched into the large Defense hall, his booming voice echoing off the tall ceilings and spread throughout the room. He took his place at the front of the room, continuing, "It is to my understanding that many of you are falling behind in this class. For what reason, I can't imagine. I'm a great teacher." He looked around the room and his gaze landed on Lyn and they shared a smile. Professor Brennan was Lyn's favorite teacher, and Lyn his favorite student. She wasn't the top of her class-that honor belonged to Albus Potter, but Lyn stood out to him. Professor Brennan claimed that even though she was a Slytherin, she reminded him of a Ravenclaw he knew in his own Hogwarts years.

Everyone thought she should have been a Ravenclaw, like her mother.

So many people did, even Lyn herself doubted the silver and green tie around her neck occasionally. But no, Slytherin pride didn't allow room for that doubt. She was a snake, through and through.

"So this is what I'm going to do," Professor Brennan declared. "I'm going to offer all of you an extra-credit project based on your current performance in my class. You projects will all be different, even though some of them are similar. Basically, I am going to assign you a spell, and right before O.W.L.s—that is, by the end of Easter Break, you need to submit a theory paper—" the Slytherins started muttering "—and also successfully produce the spell in three different situations." Some of the Ravenclaws grumbled.

"That's what Defense is all about, children," Professor Brennan laughed, "Theory and practice. It would be in your best interests to master both. Now line up and I will assign you to your topic."

The class shuffled forward and formed a reluctant line. Lyn hid behind Cassandra as they waited for their turn.

"_Avis_," She heard, "that's a very interesting spell to perform, Mr. Ross…"

Albus Potter approached Professor Brennan, who consulted his list, "_Legilimens_, Mr. Potter. I suspect you'll have a good time researching this spell, which, of course, is beyond O.W.L.s, even N.E.W.T. level—not to mention legally restricted. But do the best you can. I expect something creative instead of the performance of the spell."

After a few others received their assignments, and Cassandra got _Alarte Ascendare_, a spell she claimed she never even heard of before, Lyn approached the front of the room full of anticipation. Professor Brennan looked at his list and grinned. "Miss Reynolds, you have the honor of trying the _Expecto Patronus _spell. I plan to have a class on this spell soon. Harry Potter mastered it in his 3rd year, and under his instruction, others were able to perform it during their 5th year, which is your age."

Lyn nodded and took the slip of paper with the name of the spell.

* * *

She walked into the library that afternoon wanting to take a look at some books detailing the creation and usage of the _Expecto Patronus_.

Her usual spot was by the glass windows looking out to the lake. The light shines through those windows quite perfectly, and because most students prefer warmer spots when studying, they ignore the three brown tables by the windows. Some chatter drifted her way occasionally, which she didn't mind, because honestly, stifling silence made her sleepy.

Today, sitting across from her spot, staring out into the brilliant spectrum of autumn lost in his thoughts, was none other than Albus Potter. Lyn bit her lip. If she was a Gryffindor she would have waltzed over and sat down at her seat, not caring if he minded. If she was a Ravenclaw she would never have let someone else's presence distract her from her studies. If she was a Hufflepuff she would have befriended Albus earlier. But as a Slytherin she was a little too proud to share her table, so consulting her mental calendar she pushed her library visit to Wednesday.

[iii. Denied

"How are you coming along with _Expecto Patronus_, Lyn?" Professor Brennan asked her, two weeks after the spells had been assigned.

"Well, _theoretically_, I am able to produce the spell given a minutes notice."

"And practically?"

"Practically…I've been given two weeks and the spell hasn't been produced yet."

Professor Brennan laughed and patted her shoulder. "You'll get it," he promised. "I know that you are an extremely talented student, but I would still like to offer you some help with your assignment."

Lyn titled her head in confusion.

"I admit, I've been wanting to pair you two together for ages. As the two most brilliant minds in this class I know the two of you can do something great. You may help Mr. Potter with his Legilimency project and he can help you with _Expecto Patronus_."

"Potter? As in Albus?"

"Why of course!" Professor Brennan beamed, "There isn't another Potter in your grade, is there?"

"I don't believe so," Albus's voice cut in from behind Lyn. "I'm the male Potter she hasn't called a jerk yet."

Lyn shot him a look, and he grinned back.

"I would love for Miss Reynolds to help me with my project." He slung Lyn's book-bag over his shoulder, ignoring her protests. "I believe we both have a free block next. What say you to going to the library and talking things over?"

"That would be a wonderful idea!" Professor Brennan's eyes glinted as he showed his students to the door, Albus carrying two bags and Lyn hugging her Defense textbook to her chest.

Closing the door behind them, Professor Brennan wrapped his Slytherin scarf around his neck and walked towards the grounds of the castle. Memories from twenty something years ago about a raven haired boy and a raven haired girl resurfaced. Well, they are his best students. It's not like he's trying to play matchmaker or anything. Not at all…

* * *

"I really don't need your help," Lyn muttered, keeping her eyes down and not looking up at his green pools of light. "I can handle the spellwork." She held her hand out for the book-bag that Albus still carried, "I won't tell Professor Brennan, don't worry." She expected him to hand her bag over, then leave her alone to go where it is that he should be.

But her hand remained empty.

After an uncomfortable silence, she finally glanced up at him. He was staring at her with something glittering under his eyes that she couldn't identify. It wasn't pity or superiority. It wasn't something harsh, an emotion she would expect to see after being rejected. No—it was something soft and very, very gentle.

They locked eyes for a while with Lyn finding herself unable to pull away.

"Where do you want to sit?" He asked, gesturing at the mostly empty library.

"Over there," Lyn marched over to her spot—the very spot she forfeited a week ago—resigned to her fate.

"This is my favorite corner of the library too," Albus commented, looking at Lyn curiously.

"I know," she said mindlessly.

"You know?" he asked, confused.

"I…I mean that I know why you would love this corner in the library," she hastily covered.

"Yeah," his face brightened, "I love how the light shines through the windows perfectly, and it isn't too close to the fire-"

"Or too silent." Lyn found herself finishing.

"Exactly!" Albus exclaimed.

"Shhh!" Lyn shushed him while making sure Madame Pince didn't hear anything.

Blushing and scratching the back of his head, Al pulled a chair out and sat down. Mirroring him, she did too.

"So, uh… How's your Patronus coming along?"

"Nonexistent at the moment. I think the memory that I'm using just isn't good enough."

"Hmm, what memory have you been using?"

"Getting my Hogwarts letter," Lyn shrugged. "I mean I know it's pretty generic, but I honestly remember being ecstatic when I got the letter."

"Can you perform the spell so I can make sure that your motions are correct?"

"Sure," she grabbed her wand and swirled it in a circle, "_Expecto Patronum!"_

"Yeah. Your form is great. I guess the memory is what we need to work on. Consider me your therapist." Albus leaned back.

"Therapist? Can I trust you Albus to uphold the doctor-patient confidentiality?"

He raised a finger. "First, please call me Al. Albus makes me feel like Dumbledore and while he's quite amazing he's old and dead. Second, is that confidentiality a Muggle thing? Because I feel like I've heard it before. Last, yes, that's what I said. Consider me your therapist."

"Okay, _Al_, my self-appointed therapist. I'm fine as long as the doctor-patient confidentiality is upheld. But a question before: Do you mind talking about how you learned the spell? Or perform it, actually, too." It felt immensely strange using a nickname she's only heard before in the halls on the lips of his numerous cousins and close friends.

"The patient has high demands, but the doctor—it's such a Muggle word, by the way. Don't you think so? The doctor will try his best."

He took a deep breath, "Obviously, my father wanted us to learn the spell as early as possible. James mastered it in his third year, just like my dad. Lily did it in her second year, which is pretty darn brilliant. I accomplished it the latest, mostly because I refused to be taught… But then Lily did it and it was so cool and also my little sister just learned something that I refused to learn… so I agreed to try it. It turns out it's not that hard. Probably because my dad taught me, and by the time he taught me he's already taught a ton of people.

"It's frustrating when you don't get it at first, but the memory is really the key. At first you need something that's overpoweringly joyful to produce your first corporeal patronus. In fact, my dad likes to argue that the charm is so hard to produce for so many people because they can't think of anything overwhelmingly happy. There's nothing so hard about the spell other than that. The hand motion is a simple circle. The so called "superior magical ability" required to perform this spell is really the ability to recall a happy memory. A moment of bliss."

"And that's why you are naming yourself my therapist."

"Bingo. You need a happy memory."

Lyn leaned forward, "_Bingo?_ Isn't that a Muggle thing? Like therapists?"

Al ran his hand through his hair, "Yeah, you'll notice that I'm very much influenced by Muggle culture… With Aunt Hermione stuffing me the most popular Young Adult Muggle novels and Granddad Arthur spouting Muggle lingo everyday I picked things up."

"Hmm. An honorary Muggle. Just like me."

"Honorary? Isn't your father a Muggle?"

"He was. He died when I was five, though."

"Do you miss him?"

"I think I miss having a father figure. I don't really remember him, other than…" she fell silent.

"Other than what?"

"Nothing," she deflected, "you still need to show me your patronus."

The corner of his lip quirked as he silently consented to her change in topic. He concentrated for a moment, brows furrowing, and then swirled his wand in the required circle. A silvery owl burst from the tip of his wand, circling the pair a couple times before fading away.

"See, it's not that hard," he said, "I can do it."

Lyn found her lips lifted into a smile as the boy in front of her started sharing stories from his youth. In time, he said. The right memory would come to her in time.

[iv. Trapped

The memory did come to her, a few weeks later. After a couple of sessions with her self-proclaimed therapist she had an idea of what she needed to look for. They talked in these sessions, mostly. Trading stories from their childhoods, before Hogwarts. Lyn didn't think that there was much to say about her childhood; compared to his, hers was way less interesting. There was no meeting the Minister of Magic on a regular basis. There weren't elaborate escapes planned to use on the paparazzi. No excitement and adventure that being Harry Potter's son brought.

But then she started to talk about the small things: her mother bringing her different snacks every day when she came back from work, the way she not-so-subtly left books on her desk to make her read them, especially if it was a non-fiction book that she found necessary. Slowly, she started to remember the larger things. The funny things that you would remember to tell people a during a social gatherings. She thought of the episodes of accidental magic that her mother decided was too suspicious for her to stay in a Muggle kindergarten. Instances when she accidentally levitated her classmates or herself, when the books would strangely rearrange themselves into an order that she thought made sense.

"_Expecto Patronum_", she whispered, waving her wand. She thought back to her time with her mother and her father—just them—when they lived together in that hillside flat. She stepped on crisp toasted golden leaves; she inhaled the sharp scent of the earth. She felt the little girl's ebony hair fly as she ran, chasing the silhouette of the tall man in front of her. She heard her own screams of joy as she was whirled around, her father's large hands under her arms. It was such a foreign concept now, just spinning under the big blue sky with no worries.

Silver mist ejected from the tip of her dark pine wand. It swirled in front of her, building up mass until it took the form of a large silvery eagle. The corporeal animal turned and looked Lyn straight in the eyes, unblinking and hard. Her patronus spread its wings and soared up, gliding under the ceiling away from her, before fading away, the mist shrinking back to its center until it was too small to see.

Her class erupted into whispers, mumbling about her distinct and clear patronus before turned back to their own tiny bursts of silver. Professor Brennan came over to her in his long strides. He met her eyes and told her, "That was brilliant, Miss Reynolds," he winked, "and perhaps it's no coincidence your patronus is in the shape of an eagle, the mascot of our brightest house. Maybe the Hat made a mistake thinking you are a snake."

"Perhaps, sir," she managed. He clapped her should twice before turning to help a boy who wasn't struggling to produce any smoke.

Lyn slumped against the edge of a desk they pushed against the wall. Silver patroni danced and pranced under the tall ceiling of the DADA Practice hall as the couple of students who managed the spell cast it over and over again.

She glanced around the bright hall, light danced around white marble columns. The long floor length windows captured a scene of a brilliant breezy golden autumn afternoon. Albus Potter with his emerald eyes and silver owl smiled at her. They locked gazes, and Lyn could see the excitement in his eyes as she managed to smile back. He turned to answer someone's question, and she lifted her face up to the sky hidden behind the stone ceiling. She blinked away tears. She couldn't cry now, not in front of all these people!

Merlin, what was wrong with her? She produced a perfect patronus.

The silver eagle's sharp eyes and unflinching gaze returned to her mind. Something inside cracked. It was the innermost layer underneath cement, stone, marble, rock, and alabaster she'd built in her chest after years and years of lying to herself. It was the layer made of glass that she herself had forgotten was there for a long time. That one crack allowed a draft inside her fortress, and that draft brought with it the crisp scent of fall.

* * *

The dreams started that night.

But to be honest, it didn't feel like anything was _starting_, it felt like something was coming back to visit her. Haunt her. Tossing and turning and trying to escape from her own mind, Lyn felt like a little child who will never be innocent again hiding under forest green sheets.

She ran and ran, then over a cliff she flew—then she's falling through the darkness, completely alone. The sequence played over and over until she was jerked away—Someone's hands wrapped around her shoulders as they cradled her, rocking and whispering. In her grogginess Lyn made out Cass's pizza PJs and her voice soothing her. "You're just having those bad dreams again," she crooned, "Think of a safe place, like the library. Think of the library. Fall asleep in the library. Find…safe…place…" Cass's voice melted away into the fuzziness of dreams, and Lyn's freefall landed her in between the dusty shelves of the library.

* * *

The next day she couldn't stop thinking about how peculiar the whole thing was. Why would she react so violently to her own patronus? She was almost completely certain that seeing her patronus take the form of an eagle was the root of this problem. That soaring eagle caused something repressed in her to bubble up. Why?

She spent the entire day spaced out, replaying the instant the eagle materialized and trying to pinpoint the feelings it brought. The dreams it brought...she didn't remember having them ever before, however, Cass said, "You're just having those bad dreams _again._"

Lyn perked up. Did her friend know anything about her dreams? How was this possible? It...could have been a slip of the tongue, Lyn tried to convince herself. She cast furtive glances at her friend, two rows in front of her in their Herbology class, absently twirling her quill instead of taking notes on Longbottom's lecture.

"Cass!" Lyn called out to her friend once the fifth year class was dismissed, "I have something to ask you."

"What?"

"Well you see," Lyn fell into step beside her as they walked towards DADA together, "last night, when I had that nightmare, you said that I was having those dreams 'again'. What do you mean by 'again'? I don't remember having those nightmares ever before. I mean, it felt familiar and reminded me of something, but I don't remember ever having dreams like that before… Do you know something?"

Cass stared at her with a strange expression. "I think," she said slowly, "that if you're having these dreams, you'll remember what you need to know on your own soon enough."

"Are you serious?" Lyn exclaimed, "You know something and you're not telling me what it is? Did you not see how horrible that nightmare was last night?"

"I…I can't, Lyn. I made a promise."

"A promise?" Lyn snorted, "Please, we're Slytherins." Then it sunk in. "Just who did you make a promise to?"

Cass avoided Lyn's gaze, "Your mum."

"I _cannot _believe you." Lyn hissed.

"Lyn you're not being rational," Cass snapped, "It was a promise I made her a long time ago, way before you guys were this stiff with each other."

"Of course I'm not being rational, I'm angry." Lyn turned away.

"Fine," Cass stalked ahead, "Be that way. Just know that if you want to know anything you'll have to write your mum. If she wants to tell you she will."

Lyn's heart drummed in her ears as she watched her friend stalk towards a corner of the Defense classroom already filled with some other Slytherin girls. How could she withhold the information she needed? How dare her mother manipulate her friend this way?

How could they serve her this ultimatum when they knew that her spine was crafted with stiff pride and there was no way she would bow down to say sorry or to be the one to initiate a reconciliation?

[v. Befriended

"Are you okay?" Albus plops into the chair across from her at that table in the library—their table now.

Lyn felt the weight of the bags on her eyes and yawned, "I just haven't been able to get any good sleep recently. I get these horrible nightmares…"

Cass, being the stubborn Slytherin she is, switched with a girl from another dorm. Lyn had no idea how she convinced her but she must have been pretty desperate because Slytherins don't usually part from their things. Or make sacrifices for others. The new girl had a healthy snore and whenever Lyn jerked awake, breathing in deeply under her covers, she could hear the noises coming from Cass's bed. Cass must have written her mother, too, because letters started arriving—letters she had no intention of opening until… Until something forced her to, she guessed.

"What dreams? How bad are they?" Albus asked, concerned. He reached a hand out across the table and rested it on hers. The contact startled her a little, but it wasn't uncomfortable, actually. It felt a little…warmer.

"Well I guess you could help me with interpreting it… To be honest I wouldn't need to ask you to help me if Cass would just tell me everything. She knows about my dreams, somehow, I guess my mother must have told her, but she wouldn't tell me what they mean!"

"How come?"

"She said she made a promise to my mother, and that she thinks eventually I will start remembering on my own."

"I'll listen to what's happening. We should be able to figure this out together."

Hesitantly, Lyn looked up into his eyes, the eyes that she only started gazing into everyday a couple of months ago. Slowly, she began.

"In my dreams I am running up a hill…"

_It is a beautiful autumn afternoon—all the trees are painted brown, orange, red, and gold: warm colors in the chill of fall. As I climb I admire the colorful trees in awe, marveling at nature's power. _

_And then I see it._

_High above soaring in the sky is a majestic beast. It looks down at me, welcomes me to his kingdom. His eyes are sharp and they cut into me, hook me, and I am reeled in like a little minnow, helpless against the tide._

_After I wake up, I often recall the beast as an eagle, but in my dreams it is not clear. Sometimes it has golden feathered, sometimes dark as the inky night sky, and sometimes even stony grey like the statue sitting outside the entrance to the Ravenclaw common rooms. This time, the eagle is made out of silvery mist, just like the type that flowed out of my wand tip during the day. _

_Suddenly I fall—I slip off the trail and tumble down the mountain and I keep falling—free falling—until the darkness of an abyss swallows me whole. _

_And I scream and scream and scream. _

"By this point I already know what's going to happen in the dream, but I just keep watching the scene unfold, paralyzed. I—I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Is that why you haven't been able to cast another patronus after that day? The patronus being an eagle must have triggered something within you. You've never reacted this way to an eagle before? Not the stone eagles outside the Ravenclaw tower?" Al asked.

Lyn shook her head.

"What do _you _think the reason is?"

"I really don't know. If only Cass would just tell me and stop working for my mum…" she grew quiet. What if Cass had only befriended her because her mum made her promise? All these years she's only really stuck to Cass because she approached her from the very first day. She squeezed Al's hand and only now noticed that their hands went from being on top of each other to being held together. Her cheeks tingled. Well, now there's Al too.

For the rest of the night while the library was still open, they exchanged theories and speculations but didn't reach conclusions any firmer than they had before.

The tingling in her chest lasted until she slipped under her covers and closed her eyes.

* * *

She was in a dark tunnel. Color flooded her mind and memory, images jumped and mixed with each other, creating randomized pictures that danced in her head. But despite all the color, the tunnel was dark, cold, and quiet. None of the pictures ever made sound. It was like silenced portraits hanging on the walls of the hallway. The dark, suffocating hallway.

She knew that the darkness does not go away, she knows that from experience. The nature of the tunnel was to stay dark until morning. She couldn't escape the tunnel, no. Not until dawn.

Lyn drifted through the tunnel like Alice dropped down the rabbit hole, randomly and without much logic in her surroundings. A picture of an autumn trail caught her eye, and interested, she slowed and turned to face it.

Her heart beat faster, perhaps because a part within her subconscious already recognized the image. But nonetheless, she stood in front of it, entranced.

Maybe she's spent too many years wrapping herself behind layers of mist and metal, it was already too late to fix what was already too broken inside. To fix it meant to step out from behind the curtain she was hiding and go back _there_. To keep everything like it is, meaning to never be whole—to always be missing a part that should have been there. Maybe she just needed some fresh eyes to look at her story—eyes that won't burn with pain and tears while unraveling the tangled knot that is her life.

Lyn Reynolds couldn't admit it, but she couldn't do this alone. The nightmares plunge her even deeper into who she was and who she's become she doesn't think she can climb out of the deep pit without a helping hand that brought with it light to illuminate her darkness.

_A safe space, a safe space, _she chanted as she sat in the hallway with her back to the portrait. She visualized Albus next to her, laughing and talking about what this professor said to that student.

Maybe, without her knowing it, she's already broken through that wall of metal iron. Maybe, she looked into the portrait, it wasn't fall for her anymore. It wasn't even winter. She could feel the beginnings of a spring breeze in the corners of her lips.

[vi. Embraced

"Hey Lyn," Al asked when they were sitting down by the lake one day, "Do you have any plans for Easter break?"

"I guess I'll have to go home to mum's. Usually I would stay at the castle, but Cass still isn't telling me anything and I need to figure things out with my mum so I can finish that DADA assignment. And to sleep better, in general."

Al's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Do you think you could come stay with us? I mean I know obviously you'll be wanting to go visit your mum but you could come over for Easter Day brunch or something? Unless you want to spend it with your mum of course I understand-"

"Al," Lyn cut him off, "You know I'm not that close with my mother. I'll write her asking about it, but yeah. I think I could come visit."

"That's great." Al laced his fingers through hers and lay down on the grass, not caring that the grass and dirt would stain his robes.

He's been doing it a lot more recently, subtle touches and little moments of contact that always spiked her heart rate. He closed his eyes, basking in the early spring sun and Lyn allowed herself to stare at him. His hair was tousled and the top few buttons of his shirt was unbuttoned. His chest rose and fell in peaceful breathing. There was just such a _realness_ to him. Perhaps she'd really spent her years at Hogwarts isolated but she hasn't noticed anyone's little details before. The way he smelled—fresh and sophisticated made her heart squeeze.

She would have just kept on staring but a very important thought crossed her mind—"Al! I don't know any of your family. How am I supposed to make small talk?"

He sat up again, with some grass in his hair, Lyn noted with amusement. "Well that's what small talk is for. It's to get to know people. You'll be fine, trust me. You know Roxy, right? She was a seventh year Slytherin last year. Also Lily will befriend you the minute I introduce you to her. I'll stick with you, and if you can't find me, you can talk to Lily or Rea, if she shows up."

"Rea?"

"Yeah. She's a Gryffindor Chaser, a year below us. She's friends with James through Quidditch and I don't know if she realizes he fancies her but she's a sweet girl."

Lyn shivered involuntarily, Al didn't know about Cass and James and her role in that play. How did he just assume she had interests in common with these girls?

"You cold?" Al looked at her.

"A little." She did leave her vest in her dorm and the late afternoon was getting a little chilly for her blouse.

"Let's head back inside," Al pulled her up and draped his robes over her shoulders like a cape. Instantly, she was engulfed in the smell of fresh laundry and windswept moors.

* * *

_Mum, _

_I need to talk with you about certain things over this holiday, as I'm sure Cass has informed you. I will be coming home, but I will also be spending time at the Potter household as they have invited me to spend a couple of days at their house. Currently I am planning to celebrate Easter Day with them, but if you need me to get out of the house before break is over, I think I can stay a couple of extra days with them._

_See you soon,_

_Lyn_

* * *

_Dear Lyn,_

_Cass did indeed tell me about recent events and their effects on you. I wrote a series of letters containing explanations for mine and Cass's behaviors a couple of months ago. You never replied._

_Certainly we can talk during the holidays, and no, you will not to stay extra days at the Potters'. You are my daughter, how can you feel so unwelcome in your own house? If you wish to return to Hogwarts with the Potter kids you could stay at their house the last day of break and sleepover. It's so nice to see you widening your circle of friends._

_Love,_

_Mum_

* * *

_Mum, _

_I will take you up on your idea to stay with the Potters at the end of break. I think since Easter Day is right at the start of break I'm just going to stay over the first two days as well. I ran it by them and they were totally fine with it. _

_I did not open your letters. Explanations given in person are much more sincere, don't you think?_

_Lyn_

* * *

There were so many Potters and Weasleys crammed into just one house. Lyn never knew that a family could be so big and _affectionate_. She counted at least six aunts/uncles coming up and tousling Al's hair, commenting on how much he'd grown since the last time they'd seen him and Al would laugh, "I saw you during Christmas break!"

The number of relatives who'd come over and attempted to tell Lyn embarrassing stories about when Al was a baby was also astonishingly high. Each time Al dragged her away blushing slightly. George was the most successful. He sneaked up to her while Al refilled her pumpkin juice and proceeded to tell the funniest story about how when Al was just 3-years-old with a sparse vocabulary he had gotten into a fight with Roxanne, George's daughter, who was then 6. Roxanne was mad at the adults for giving Al the last biscuit and called him a "stinky little baby". Al burst out in tears and through his blubbering said that he wasn't a stinky _little baby_, he was a stinky _big kid!_ Needless to say all the adults roared and Lyn found herself imagining a toddler Albus waving his fists at his cousin, demanding that she treat him like the big kid he is.

"Uncle George!" Al marched over crossly, "You haven't been telling Lyn any stories have you?"

"No stories," George promised, "Just facts." He grinned.

Wordlessly Al dumped his glass of pumpkin juice over George's head and dragged Lyn away while he sputtered.

Once they found a quiet corner of the house Al asked Lyn, "Which story did he tell you?"

"Just the one about your fight with Roxanne when you were three."

Al groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I hate my family so much sometimes…"

"I think they're a really nice bunch," Lyn said, "This is the first time I've seen a family so happy with each other. Everyone's greeting each other even though you just saw each other over Christmas and already there's teasing and updates…"

"You didn't have this with your mom," He stated.

She shook her head.

"I guess it must be exciting and strange at first, but then they all kind of grow on your nerves and become annoying."

Lyn downed the last of her pumpkin juice, and they headed back towards the overwhelmingly red-headed Weasley extended family.

* * *

"Come with me," Albus said after they finished lunch and the Potter-Weasleys started to organize themselves into Quidditch teams, "Unless you want to watch the game, of course."

"I'll follow you. Where are we going?"

"Just this place." He led her through a little bit of forest then stopped at a tall oak tree. Dangling from the tree's branches was a rope ladder, and nestled between the branches was a tree house.

"I know you're not scared of heights, so come on!" Al grabbed the ladder and started to climb.

"This tree house belongs to me. My uncle Charlie built it when I turned five as a present for me. Pretty much all the kids have had a choice between a tree house and a chance to fly on a dragon."

"And you chose to pass on the chance to fly on a dragon?"

"Well, a tree house is such a more long-lasting present. And the best thing is, it's larger on the inside compared to how it looks."

It was true. Outside, the tree house looked like a wooden box only large enough for two five year-olds to comfortably move around in, but inside, Lyn was able to stand up straight. The walls of the tree house were lined up with mini-shelves of notebooks and novels; there was even a small desk that Al could work at.

"This is amazing," Lyn gasped as she stroked the spines of the books, "Why couldn't you just have kept the books in your room?"

Al scratched his head, "Well, my room's full already with my school stuff. Besides, I don't always trust my family with leaving my belongings alone. They're a nosy bunch."

She found a title she hasn't read yet and pulled it off the shelf. "May I?"

"Of course," Al replied, grabbing a book of his own.

They fell into a comfortable silence sitting side by side on the smooth wooden floor of the tree house, listening to birds chirp and the leaves flutter around them. Lyn looked up from her page and found Albus staring at her, his page absentmindedly bookmarked with a finger.

"You're staring at me like that again," the comment slipped out of her.

"Like what? You mean you've caught me staring at you before? I do it often?"

"I mean you were staring at me like you were back at the library when we were first assigned to work together. I was telling you to shove off but you just kept persisting. I was avoiding your eyes that day but when I accidentally looked up, you were staring at me with this unreadable, gentle expression, just like you were now."

"I think I remember what you're talking about. But I don't think the two stares were similar at all."

"Really?" Lyn, too, took note of her page and set the book aside.

"That first day I was staring at you with wonder. Wonder that, before, I'd always thought you were way too nice to be a Slytherin, but then I realized how much you fit in that house. You were stubborn and proud and determined to finish the assignment by yourself. You tried to get me to leave, but too late. I was hooked."

"And afterwards? When you got to know me better?"

"You're still stubborn, proud, and determined. You just like me more now."

Lyn laughed with delighted surprise. All her years at Hogwarts and he was the first to so quickly assure her that she was where she belonged. Her classmates, Professor Brennan, and even Cass questioned it, but here was someone who, from before they've sat down at a table peacefully, had agreed with the Hat's decision.

"Why do you say it's different this time?"

"To be honest," Al's cheeks reddened slightly, "This time, all I've been thinking about was this." He leaned over and brushed strands of Lyn's hair away from her face, placed his hand on the back of her neck, sending jolts of electricity down her back, and captured her lips with his.

She leaned into it, pressing her hands into the back of his chest, inhaling his smell. He cradled her, deepening the kiss until she broke away, flushed. "That… That was first kiss, you know," she rested her forehead on his, taking deep breaths. "I didn't… I didn't mess up too bad, did I?" He stuttered.

She shook her head, "You were perfect."

Their books lay forgotten on the floor of the tree house as the two talked—sometimes out loud and sometimes silently when their mouths were otherwise occupied—well into the afternoon.

Sitting next from each other at the dinner table, they kept sneaking glances at each other and smiling until Fred openly requested in front of all the remaining guests that they "stop being a pair of gushy lovebirds". Their cheeks both took on a shade of red that rivaled Lily Potter's hair, and under the table, Lyn snaked her foot around his leg.

[vii. Freed

Day four of Easter holidays, and Lyn found herself making a cup of tea in the kitchen of her home. She flooed in last night, but her mum was stuck at her Muggle publishing firm till ten o'clock, a fact that she apologized profusely for.

"Look honey, I'm sorry I came in late when I promised I would try my best to spend all my time this break with you, but I was finishing up my work so I can take tomorrow off…" Cho tried to explain, but Lyn cut her off.

"It's okay, mum. It really is. I'm just tired today, so let's talk tomorrow, k?"

Cho's shoulders sagged with relief as she dropped her shoulder bag and embraced her daughter. "Oh honey I'm so glad you decided to come home for the holidays, even though it's just three days. I've missed you so much."

Lyn mumbled her reply, something along the lines of "I missed you too" and the pulled away and awkwardly shuffled to her bedroom.

She opened a window, welcoming the slightly chilly wind and the fresh smell of early spring. Her mum seemed a little disappointed that Lyn chose to neglect the letters that she wrote but knew that her stubborn and prideful daughter held on to grudges with an iron fist.

"Good morning honey," her mum greeted.

"Good morning."

"So… How are O.W.L.s? Are you having troubles studying?" Cho asked as she fixed herself some toast.

"Not so much trouble studying as trouble sleeping," Lyn said flatly, not wanting to skirt around the topic.

Cho sighed, "How well do you remember your father?"

"Not well. I get occasional flashes and little memories but that's pretty much it."

"Tell me about it."

"I remember him picking me up from kindergarten every day, and there would be two ways we could take to get home. He always wanted to take the shorter route but I liked the longer way better, so he convinced me that the longer way was too long and not worth it." She paused, recollecting. "I think most of my childhood memories of him involve him picking me up or driving me somewhere.

"Once, he taught me about the largeness of infinity when he drove me home from kindergarten. I asked if there was anything outside the universe. He answered asking if _I _thought there was anything outside the universe and I said yes, so he asked me to explain where that thing would be, if not in the universe. Also he taught me how there is no largest number by telling me to add one to the largest number I could think of.

"I mean, later I learned that the ways he explained things to me were extremely simplified versions of his point of view, but it was nice just talking to him about ideas I had in my little kindergartener brain."

"Do you remember how he died?" Cho asked.

"You told me it was a car accident."

Cho shook her head. "I lied. I knew how close you were to your father and you seemed to have already forgotten the whole incident so I decided it was okay to tell a white lie…"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Chase always loved to play outside, especially hiking up the hills behind our house. One day I was away at work and when I came back home you were sitting shivering on the doorsteps, locked out. I asked you where your dad was and you started crying and going into hysterics.

"You said that you were hiking and then you saw a magnificent bird and followed it, but accidently slipped and fell over a cliff and was clinging onto a ledge below it. Chase—your dad lowered himself down to pull you back up, but as he swung you onto the cliff, he lost his footing on the narrow ledge and tumbled down the cliff."

Lyn's mouth went dry.

"After you told me the story I immediately called the police and the ambulance. The police found Chase's body and confirmed your story. You were taken to the hospital and the doctors determined that you were in shock, so they gave you some medicine and you went to sleep. The next morning when you woke up you had forgotten everything."

"You're lying. I refuse to believe this." Lyn shook her head.

"I was worried that you would remember, but all seemed to be fine. The doctors told me that your brain repressed those memories neatly, and the only thing that would undo it is if your body felt that you were ready or if you saw something extremely triggering. That's why when you brought Cass home the first time I enlisted her help in keeping you safe. Don't blame her for anything, please."

"I—I killed my father?" Lyn screamed. "Why couldn't you have told me earlier?"

"I tried, I sent you the letters, remember? The doctors warned me against revealing the truth to you before you were ready to accept it. Forcing you to remember might have caused severe brain damage."

"This must be why you hated me and never had time for me," Lyn spat, "you blame me."

"I don't blame you, Lyn," Cho protested, "I never hated you!"

"I need some time alone," Lyn said and bolted out of the house, towards the hills. For once since she managed her patronus, the path felt familiar. The path of failure, letting other people down. Even the spring breeze wafting on the hills tasted bitter to her.

* * *

_Once again, she was running up a large hill. This time, she could hear someone chasing behind her, yelling at her to stop and come back. But as always, she had to follow the eagle. She was transfixed by it, pulled ahead by an invisible string. It was one thing that never changed in her dreams. _

Daddy! _A thought jolted through Lyn. If someone was following her this time in her dreams, it had to be her dad, right? She wanted to turn and look, but dream-Lyn wasn't getting the message. Her eyes were fixed on the eagle and her feet were inching forwards unwillingly._

_Everything was going by the story her mother told her. She reached the edge of the cliff and lost her footing, slipping and shrieking while clinging on to a dry ledge with her fingers._

"_Lyn! Lyn!" her father yelled from above her. Lyn looked up, expecting to see the face of Chase Reynolds, ten years deceased, but her subconscious spent all those years repressing those memories she couldn't summon her father's face through the fog of her dreams. Instead, staring down at her was Albus green eyes filled to the brim with panic. _

"_No, no, Albus you can't help me. Please leave me alone. Please—I can't lose you too," she cried, clinging to her ledge. _

"_Shh, it's going to be okay," Al said as he lowered himself over the cliff and stood on the ledge Lyn was holding on to. He reached down and pulled her up. "Now I have to throw you up, okay?" These were the exact last words her father said to her. _

"_Stop it Al, stop it stop it. You'll fall over the cliff and die. I know it I—I can't lose you please," Lyn pleaded as Al lifted her up and swung her so she landed on the cliff above. It was unrealistic; real-Al would never had been able to swing her like that. They were too similar in height, but that wasn't true when Lyn was five and her dad was a grown man. _

_She landed on the cliff a little roughly. Her head hurt a little from the bump and her chest heaved with racking sobs as she heard the scream that meant Al lost his balance throwing her up the ledge and was tumbling to his death._

* * *

"I don't know how to do deal with this knowledge," Lyn confessed with her chin rested on her knees, picking at the fresh green sprouts of grass newly emerged from the cold earth.

"I don't expect you to. I don't think anyone knows how to deal with this type of information." Al said.

"It's just-" she sighed, "Al, promise me you'd never go after me like my dad did. If anything happened to you because of me, I would not be able to live with myself."

"Lyn, you can't think like that. If anything happened to you because of me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself either."

"It was my fault."

"You were five years old."

"It was my fault," she repeated.

"I don't think so. It was his choice to save his daughter. You can't blame yourself for everything that everyone around you does. Or did." He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. "It was so long ago. Ten years. We don't have a way to bring dead people back to life. There are time turners but going back to that point in time and save your father will change too much. Your story will be rewritten." He lifted his face to look at her and added quietly, "As will mine."

Her face flushed and she said softly, "You're right. I guess I don't really want to change the past. I just wish there was a way to talk to him once more. Daughter to father. Do you think I'll find him behind the veil when I die, even though he was a Muggle?"

"I think, in death, there is no Wizard and no Muggle, just human. Although I do suppose you could ask my dad. He's died before."

"Knowing that there is an afterlife does help with grief, doesn't it?"

He hummed and she rested her cheek on his chest, thinking how terribly hard it would be to cope, even with the knowledge of an afterlife, if this boy would to leave her.

[viii. Soared

The Defense hall was noisy as forty-something fifth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins waited for Professor Brennan to arrive.

Their papers were all stacked in one pile in the front of the room as the group have grown accustomed to Professor Brennan's tardiness. When finally he bustled into the room and gestured for the students to settle into their seats. The room was arranged into a U-shape so all the desks were pushed against the walls as close as possible while still allowing room for the students to sit properly.

"Now," Professor Brennan announced, "I am going to put all of your papers in my hat, and pick one out at random. That is the order of the presentations today." He took his pointy hat off and stuffed all the papers inside. The professor rummaged around for a while before pulling one out. Reading the title, he grinned, "Mr. König, will you be so kind as to show the class your _Expulso_?"

The German boy stood and shuffled to the front of the classroom, performing the spell on the wooden dummy set up in the middle of the desks.

"Hey, Cass," Lyn whispered to her friend, who despite their fight, was sitting right in front of Lyn today.

"…What?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry for everything I said a couple of months ago. You were right. I needed to resolve my issues by myself."

"I can't hear you, say that again?" Lyn could hear the tease in Cass's voice.

"I. Apologize," she hissed in Cass's ear.

"Forgiven. I think. What about your mum?"

"I wrote her an apology. She wrote back, and I guess we're trying to make up for all the relationship we had before. She's had it hard, actually, experiencing the death of her boyfriend and then Harry Potter's abandonment, and then her husband dies..."

"And her daughter pulling away from her year after year."

"...Yeah."

"I've been trying to tell you this for years, Lyn. Glad you see the light."

Then Cass's name was called and she stood up and left.

That was good enough for Lyn.

A couple of presentations after Cass's was Lyn's. Brennan pulled her paper out of his hat and chuckled. "Well, let's have Miss Reynolds demonstrate her patronus. Although most of this class has already witnessed her corporeal patronus, a magnificent eagle, it wouldn't hurt to see it again, would it?"

_Oh the irony,_ thought Lyn as she made her way to the front of the classroom. She hadn't attempted the spell ever since she managed it the first time. Inhaling deeply, she brandished her wand and assumed her stance.

Looking around the room, she found the face she was looking for, and smiled. Al was grinning at her holding a thumbs up. The first time, she used the memory of her family living together. Now, that memory was slightly painful to conjure. Instead, she thought back to the afternoons she spent with Albus. Remembering their first kiss she blushed and waved her wand.

"_Expecto Patronum,_" she whispered, and opened her eyes to see silver mist pooling out of her wand. The tips of the wings were the first to form, but as she braced herself for the worst she realized something peculiar. Murmurs broke out in the classroom as her classmates came to the same realization.

"Well, well," Professor Brennan clapped her on the shoulder. "I must congratulate you on producing yet another corporeal patronus. You are by far the youngest person I have witnessed experiencing a change in patronus. Do you have any idea why it would change from an eagle to an owl?"

"I…have a couple of hunches," Lyn replied.

Suddenly, in the corner of her eye another burst of silver caught her attention. From the tip of Al's wand the same owl burst forward. All the Ravenclaws around him groaned, "Come on, Al, stop showing off. We know you can produce a patronus." Al raised his hands in self-defense, "I'm just saying that I have the same patronus that Lyn does."

"Big deal!"

"What a coincidence, now sit down!"

Professor Brennan laughed a little to himself. It was obvious these fifth years didn't know that much about patronuses yet. "Well, if Mr. Potter is inclined to perform, why don't we hear about his project on _Legilimens_?"

Albus hopped up as Lyn took a seat. "Obviously I cannot perform this spell as the difficulty level is beyond the abilities of a Fifth Year Hogwarts student, not to mention the legal restraints on performing it, but I will give a presentation on something similar to Legilimency. Muggles call it the studies of psychology, which covers everything from how they believe the mind works to why humans make the choices that they do. Today I will be giving a short talk on the repression of memories, as it links both to psychology and to Legilimency…"

Lyn smiled as he launched into the presentation they had prepared together.

* * *

"Do you want to do it together?" Al asked her as they sat on the banks of the Great Lake.

"Do what?"

"Produce our patronus, of course."

Lyn laughed and took her wand into the ready position. "On the count of three," she said. "One, two, three."

Together they moved their wands in a circle, and two identical owls erupted from the tips of their wands. Circling each other, the two owls took off, leaving intertwined trails of silver behind, soaring higher and higher until they disappeared.

_Fin._

* * *

**Well I'm glad that's out of my system. Please drop a review or just constructive criticism because psssh why else am I on this website writing? I want to improve, thanks.**

**Hopefully my other HP fics in the works will soon be out of the works. My aim is to have it up by May? But knowing how slow I write and how distracted I get, I have to say, it all depends.**

**Date Completed: February 19th, 2015 **


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